


Desecration

by Ezlebe



Category: Ex Machina (2015)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Ghosts, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6959161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezlebe/pseuds/Ezlebe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Finally, dude,” Nathan says, a wide smirk crossing his face at the moment Caleb catches his eye. “I’ve been waiting forever. Do you know how boring it is to just talk without anyone listening?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desecration

The process of dying from dehydration is a slow one, which Caleb finds out ironically quick. He sits, chest heaving, against the door for the first few hours, staring at the still figures of Kyoko and Nathan out in the hall. He thinks he might have broken a few fingers trying to punch his way out of the security door, futile as it had been in his hysteria. He forces himself up and paces for another few hours into the night when he finally comes somewhat back to himself, clutching his hand and muttering fantasies of being found, ignoring the steady stream down his cheeks.

The next morning, he wakes with his face pressed to carpet, mouth dry and worryingly sticky, with no memory of falling asleep. He pulls himself up on shaky limbs and rips apart the room desperately, looking in every corner of the sparse office, even trying to break the window, but everything is as solid as the door. He eventually settles for staring at the bodies again through the glass, a new part of him envious.

He collapses onto the couch for much of the third day, after it has become too difficult to stand, lying back and imagining that Nathan has another secret AI hidden in the house. He pretends he’s being rescued by a silent woman when his vision starts to swim again, though not from anything so mundane as tears. His head has been aching for hours now, like a slow drill has begun forcing his way between his temples; it’s sort of like a migraine, but with a more despairing source to point blame.

The fourth morning, he wakes far more comfortably, wincing at the sunlight beaming on his face and barely realizing that he doesn’t feel like shit anymore behind the mundane irritation. He swallows, smacking his lips and marveling at the absence of painful cracking across his tongue.

He turns his head, blinking slow, and starts at the sight of Nathan sitting calmly at the other end of the small room, leaning on the arm of his office chair and tapping fingers across his own elbow.

Caleb glances quickly toward the darkened door to the hall, then back to Nathan, taking a short breath, “…Nathan?”

“Finally, dude,” Nathan says, a wide smirk crossing his face at the moment Caleb catches his eye. “I’ve been waiting forever. Do you know how boring it is to just talk without anyone listening?”

“W-what?” Caleb asks, blinking for a few moments longer at Nathan, then slowly sitting up and swinging his legs around to stand. He looks around the dim room again, unsure of himself… Was all that just a dream? Ava leaving him, the power cut, Nathan calling him _stupid_. “What happened – did I fall asleep?”

“Eh,” Nathan says, gesturing oddly with his chin at the couch that Caleb had just vacated.

“…What?” Caleb says, growing irritated at feeling repetitive, but turning around to look all the same, knowing Nathan will just keep insisting until he’s obeyed.

He doesn’t bother to strangle the shout from his throat as he scrambles backward, staring at his… Himself laid out on the couch. He looks asleep, almost, if his broken fingers weren't clutched to his unmoving chest in a parody of funerary display.

“You cannot honestly find that surprising,” Nathan says, scoffing lowly and walking around the table toward Caleb. “You’ve been dying for like three days.”

Caleb takes a panicked breath, and… Or he doesn’t? He doesn’t understand how this can be – no, it’s not real. He’s clearly just hallucinating. He’s dying and now he’s imagining Nathan in his last moments, because that is evidently how much Caleb hates himself.

“You look better than I do, anyway,” Nathan says, tipping his head and looking down at Caleb’s body with a considering expression. “I look like a fucking chump, but here you are, all Sleeping fucking Beauty.”

Caleb covers his face with both hands, feeling his chest tighten in that familiar, horrible way. He backs up until he hits the wall, sliding down until his knees touch his chest, hunching inward and curling his shoulders around his head as he feels his entire body begin to tremble with the effort to reject.

“You must be a real pussy to manage a panic attack without a body, man,” Nathan says, and while there isn’t any sound as he approaches Caleb, his presence is still just that pervasive.

Caleb keeps his eyes closed, counting to seven repeatedly in his head. If he believes Nathan isn’t there, then Nathan cannot be there – it’s just brain chemistry. He only needs to wake up, or die, or whatever might release him from this developing hell.

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny thing I finally found time to write. I didn't really edit it, so if there are glaring typos I would be amenable to fix them.


End file.
